


Visiting Hours

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Hate Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sassy Old Men, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hail, hail, the gang's all here."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my little blueberry~ You know who you are~ Just for yooooou, little blueberry~
> 
> Fic takes place in the canon alternate universe. Froid's written maybe a bit too dickish, I don't know; who cares, two sassy nerds having sex.
> 
> (There may be a dubcon-ish feel, but it's all consensual, I assure you.)
> 
> [Tumblr link](http://captainbaneberry.tumblr.com/post/122459886753/visiting-hours-baneberry-the-transformers-idw): because a reblog is always appreciated! （●>ω・）ﾉ

Rung didn't think his headache could get any worse.

Hours of grueling physical and mental torture from his Functionalist tormentors had long since taken their toll. Rung bit his tongue, never screamed out, never gave in, never gave them the satisfaction, but the pain was always present and undeniable. Fortunately, it wore down to a stinging, numbing sensation some hours later, as per usual, and made it slightly more bearable until his captives returned to play.

Mostly it was the migraines that bothered Rung. He couldn't think clearly, couldn't see clearly; he could deal with fractured struts, actuator infarctions, mutilated dermal plating--whatever the Functionalists threw at him, be it barbaric or subtle. But this... The headaches--not being able to focus, to process ( _mind over matter, mind over matter_ ) was more painful than anything they could inflict on him.

Even when they were literally _inside_ his head. They were quite fond of probing his processors; took a sadistic pleasure sifting through his memory banks and RAM. They never found their answers, however, and while it frustrated them, it also meant they had more time to spend prying this small, useless Cybertronian apart.

Rung honestly didn't think his headache could get any worse. Not until _he_ came in.

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here."

It took Rung a minute to force his optics online. He adjusted them to a dim level, the bright, egg-shell white light above almost blinding. The lenses of his glasses were cracked, and the person crossing his vision came out in disjointed blurs of blue and white.

It looked like he was seeing four Froids instead of one.

"That's a horrifying thought," Rung choked, his voice raspy and meek in his worn vocalizer.

Froid placed the tray of goodies on a table. "What was that?" he asked, pulling it over to the bound mech's side.

Rung would shake his head if it wasn't locked in place. "Nothing," he replied instead.

"They did quite a number on you today," Froid noted. He opened the cube of energon.

"I'm sure you can ask for a copy of the security feeds for your private collection."

Froid poured a glass of energon. "Tut tut," he said, "your passive aggression for me is becoming less passive these days."

Rung smirked. "I've had a rough few weeks, you'll have to excuse me."

"Tell me about it," Froid replied. He reached for the control pad hanging nearby. "After your little 'sabbatical' was announced, I took over more than fifty percent of your patients." He flipped a switch, and the machines holding Rung in the air lowered him closer to the ground. "My, Rung, you left such a mess for me to clean up. I have to wonder if your clients even benefited from your sessions at all."

Froid let the switch go; Rung stopped when he was face to face with his former rival.

"Now who's losing their subtle touch?" Rung teased.

"I'm just leveling the playing field, you could say," Froid said, and let the control pad drop away. "I do miss some of our debates, however. You were stubborn and insufferable, but entertaining to say the least."

"You were never much of a challenge. Just your attitude."

Froid picked up the glass and a straw. "See? Isn't this fun?" He put the straw back down, and easily took Rung's chin in hand. His grip was tight, but the orange bot could hardly feel it. "Now, open wide."

Rung didn't really have a choice; Froid forced his jaw down, mouth open, and poured the energon carelessly into Rung's mouth. More of it spilled down his chin and on the floor than actually go down his throat. He got two heavy gulps before Froid stopped, sitting the glass down and letting Rung's chin go.

Rung coughed, clearing his vocalizer. "That--that was a bit juvenile, even for you, don't you think?"

Froid looked at his hand, coated in the purple fluid. "I thought we were having fun?" he purred, and dragged three fingers across Rung's mouth.

Rung would have turned his head away, but like before, could only stay put in this mechanical headlock.

"I'll be nicer, I promise," Froid chuckled. He dropped the straw in the half-empty cube, kindly holding it out for Rung to drink. The tattered bot struggled before pinching the straw between his lips, drinking more easily now. "Besides, I didn't come here to fight. As much as I enjoy our little spats, I miss certain other activities between us even more."

Rung just continued suckling, but his browplates raised in a curious, almost comical expression.

"It's been a long time, and they were rare enough before," Froid hummed. One hand flipped the latches from his mouth piece. He pulled it free, letting it hang from its straps around his neck. He wiped up the energon from his fingers with his long, metallic tongue, and Rung nearly choked on a swallow of the cool (if not a bit crude) energon. "Ah, yes. I felt that pulse. That spike in your EM field."

Froid plucked the straw from between Rung's lips and put the glass away. He leaned forward, hands sliding up the smaller bot's cracked cheeks, leaning in face to face. "Our supreme overlords may not be able to read you, but I always could," he purred, Rung's nose brushing against the smooth patch on his face.

Rung grinned crookedly. "You're right," he said, "this _was_ always the more entertaining part of our 'relationship.'"

Froid chortled. "Just relax and lie back," he taunted, earning a chuckle; he started down, lowering himself onto his knees between Rung's spread legs. He reached for the control pad again, adjusting Rung's position.

Rung was almost sitting upright now, legs spread a little wider, looking down at the mech below.

Froid raised his head, face to face with Rung's closed panel. "High and Mighty Useless One," he breathed hot air against the metal, and Rung shivered in the clamps, "if you'd be so kind..."

Rung invented, panel shifting aside. Beads of lubricant had gathered at the edges of his channel, and Froid grinned wickedly. "Predictable," he smirked, dipping two fingers inside.

Rung grunted. He said nothing, teeth clenched together as Froid slowly probed sensitive mesh-walls and sensory nodes, the flow of lubricant increasing. "You must be so starved for affection," Froid said, "given all you've been through. And yet I wonder..." He leaned forward, brushing a finger against the ceiling node. "Have the two blurred together yet? Can you no longer tell the difference between pleasure and pain?" He pushed up against the node, hard.

Rung gasped, jerking his head an inch in the neck clamp.

"Do you get off to them beating you? It's easy to imagine you would. You were always a simple mech. Easy and malleable." Froid drew lazy, heavy circles around the node, and Rung could only pant, unable to do anything more. "But I'm not here to psycho-analyze your deviant behavior."

"Rather..." Rung gulped. "Put your tongue t-to better use?"

Froid laughed. "How you wound me, Rung," he said, shaking his head lightly. "I suppose I could pity you for a while, however." His long arms fell, moving to wrap around the orange bot's thighs, fingers digging into seams.

Rung winced, but it wasn't necessarily due to pain.

Froid leaned forward, and without another word, pressed his tongue against the edge of Rung's channel. Slowly slid inside, until Rung was desperately wiggling and groaning. He moved his tongue with an equally frustrating pace, lapping up lubricant along the walls clenching and unclenching.

Froid drummed his fingers on the smaller bot's legs, humming in between strokes, the vibrations sending chills up Rung's spine. His tongue dragged hard and slow along the ceiling node, and Rung gasped. Froid's head bobbed, increasing pressure and speed against the sensitive, aching node, lubricant dripping free onto the ground.

With Rung all but whimpering and pleading, Froid nuzzled against the open channel, pausing to nip at mesh folds. Rung's hips bucked just a half inch against his mouth, and Froid laughed breathily inside him. His fingers tightened onto Rung's thighs and, without warning, he dove forward, all that patient gentleness and consideration gone.

Rung nearly screamed. His head was spinning, but no longer from the migraine. Froid was relentless, eating him out with what could only be described as pent-up frustration and heated desire.

It seemed his rival had been more in need of this than Rung.

Lubricant continued flowing, leaving behind a mess Froid was sure to comment on later--for now, the mech sure didn't mind, cleaning it up in hard strokes of his tongue. He pushed inside, against tightening calipers, grazing his teeth against mesh and steel. His fingers nearly tore into Rung's thighs.

Froid came to a sudden stop. Rung moaned, but knew it wasn't over. All part of the regime, after all--it only depended on who opened for who now. Froid gathered back to his feet, hastily pushing aside his own panel; lubricant seeped down his quivering thighs. Free hand groped at Rung's panel, until his unit pressurized free and erect.

Froid raised his head, face to face with Rung again. He went to say something before frowning, looking upset. "Damn," he sighed, gently touching Rung's cracked glasses, "I rather liked these."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

It was a change of position and a little adjusting before Froid slid forward, taking both his and Rung's units in one hand. He squeezed them together; grunting, Froid started working a pace, grinding and rutting. Rung dropped his head forward with a low growl in his throat, nearly bonking foreheads with his rival.

Froid bucked into his hand, against Rung's unit, hips snapping furiously. His free hand moved between his legs, hooking inside his own channel. He bit down on his bottom lip, struggling to stay as quiet as possible as he thrust his fingers relentlessly inside his channel. Concentrating on keeping along with the pace pumping their cords in unison.

Rung panted, his fans activating, pushing air through his heated chassis. Froid looked back at Rung with half-lidded optics, at his mouth hanging open, a single bead of coolant dribbling from the corner. He dove in, catching Rung's mouth with a surprised noise, and Rung obediently closed his eyes, riding into the kiss and invading tongue.

Froid drew back first at Rung's groan, noticing his body stiffening. He stopped, squeezing tighter, and with one hard jerk of his hand, brought the bound mech to overload. Transfluid spilled free, down his arm, but Froid simply let his depressurizing unit go, grasped a hip, and thrust himself inside Rung's open channel.

Rung never cried out when the Functionalists dragged him through Hell and back. But this was different, he supposed, and the cry he made wasn't too loud, thankfully.

"F-Froid--"

" _Hush_ ," Froid snarled, and bit down on Rung's bottom lip, silencing him with another hard kiss.

Froid pumped inside the pliant body, still fingering his own channel. Rung's backstrut ached; his movements were limited, and Froid was definitely trying to push for more leniency. The desperation would have been cute, under different circumstances.

Froid stopped all at once, throwing his head back with a loud whimper as he climaxed. Transfluid filled Rung, a small gush against Froid's fingers inside his channel. He went stiff, clenching down on them, milking as much of his overload as possible. A minute later he fell limp with a loud sigh, his fans bursting to life. He sagged back, pulling himself out of Rung, letting transfluid and lubricant to spill freely.

Rung pretended not to notice Froid was still clinging to him as he settled his systems. Froid pretended he hadn't noticed, either.

Froid cracked opened his tired optics. He glanced down at the puddles of fluids at their feet. "R-Rung," he said, shaky hand slipping his mouth piece back into place, "you've m-made _such_ a mess."

Rung smirked. Totally called it.


End file.
